Magical Herb Triangles
by Dragon Crystals
Summary: READ LAST CHAPTER FIRST!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I read this really awesome fic (Unexpected, by Coldwind14. Read it!) that was about Kurt and Rachel. I just had to try it! It's a challenging couple, I know, but now I really love the pairing. What should the the shipping name be? Kurchel? **

**The writing style is modeled after the style in _The Book Thief_, by Markus Zusak, which I really liked. So I tried.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. I wish I did, though.  
**

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Chapter One

_Dear Kurt,_

_I know you don't like me. In fact, I suspect you hate me. I really don't want to admit this, but it really makes me sad that we aren't friends. I know you have Mercedes, Tina, and Artie, but I think that's not enough friends. I know that sounds odd, coming from the school's resident freak, but I have to say that._

_I was thinking maybe we could become friends. It won't improve your popularity, but I really, really need a friend. Could you please not deny me this one thing, unlike everything else?_

I crumpled the half-finished letter and threw it halfheartedly at my trashcan, missing. How come, when I spoke, all the words came out perfectly, but when I wrote, the elocution I had disappeared completely?

How could I put the words on paper that I thought so often in my mind?

Then it hit me.

I'd sing my feelings to him.

One problem.

The song?

There were none I could think of to tell a gay man that I liked (like, like-like type of like) him.

Especially when I was supposedly in love with his love.

I swiveled around in my swivel chair, staring at the many pictures of me, my friends, and my dads sprinkled all over the room. There was my favorite—the one with me in my jeans and t-shirt and my arm slung over Kurt's shoulders. We were both grinning, ecstatic about winning Regionals the year before, against Vocal Adrenaline. It was the one that made me smile. In the background, you could see in big red letters William McKinley High School.

Seeing those four words worsened my already foul mood, making my smile slide off my face land somewhere near my feet. WMHS was the bane of my existence, what with all the slushy facials, getting thrown in the dumpster, and crazy love triangles.

In sixth grade, my friend and I had shared some triangle shaped crackers.

"Wow, Rachel!" my friend had exclaimed upon seeing the crackers. "These crackers are triangular!" She took a bite and added, crumbs spilling out of her mouth, eyes widening, "And these are herb flavored!"

We had sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, munching on the delicious crackers. Brittany, my friend, had said, "These are like love triangles. Maybe all the love triangles in the world need magical herb triangles to solve their problems."

The "magical herb triangles" had become my favorite food.

My comfort food.

Others had chocolate ice-cream.

I had my crackers.

I wrenched open my door and clomped down the stairs. I jogged into the kitchen, where my dads were. They looked up from the New York Times they had been poring over.

"Hey, sweetie," my one father, Jacques—he was from France—greeted. "What's up?"

I shrugged, not bothering to say anything. I reached up on tiptoes to grab the herb triangles. Jacques and Albert understood immediately—their little princess was feeling bad and wasn't to be disturbed.

I began to climb the stairs, more slowly than coming down.

I opened the box.

I looked in.

Six left.

"Dad?" I called softly, panicking quietly. "Are there any more crackers left besides the six here?"

Albert replied just as softly. "Sorry, darling, we're out. Your father and I were going to go to the store tonight. Would you like us to pick up some?"

"Could you hurry and go to the store and get my crackers?" I was worried; how was I to comfort myself with six—five, one popped into my mouth.

"Sure, sweetie," he replied.

I could hear the clanking of keys, the thump of footsteps, the slam of the door as my fathers left.

I walked up the rest of the stairs and into my room. I flopped onto my bed.

I liked Kurt.

Kurt liked Finn.

Finn liked me.

I didn't like this love triangle. That thought made me reach for the herb triangles. Maybe, just maybe, they would help me with this love triangle.

What about Brittany?

It had been years since we'd spoken; she wouldn't help.

Brittany was a Cheerio.

One of Quinn's best friends.

One of my tormentors.

She wasn't the worst, but it's the thought that counts.

But, still.

She was a Cheerio.

She was one of the enemies.

I couldn't ask an enemy for help.

Plus, Brittany was an airhead; an idiot.

It wasn't worth a chance.

She'd just rat to Quinn the second I left.

I hated to say that about Brittany, my ex-best friend, but it was true.

I had to worry about the problem at hand, not old battles.

Kurt.

I played over all the good moments that we'd shared.

The diva-off; he'd been able to hit that note with ease. He'd let me win.

That moment was my favorite.

I smiled up at the ceiling, letting my eyes droop lower and lower. Within moments I fell asleep.

***

I awoke with a jolt, shivering in the dark. I glanced at my alarm clock—two thirty-six in a.m.

I had school the next day. Hurriedly, I changed into my pajamas and hopped under the covers and tried to sleep.

Kurt.

He was all I could think about.

His girlish voice, awesome fashion sense, pretty blue eyes were all so attractive. How could all the girls—and boys, too—not find him attractive?

Maybe I was just an exception. Maybe it was just that he had been not the nicest, to say in the least, after the baby drama. Maybe I just wanted to know why he seemed to hate me.

Maybe I was in love.

The feeling in my stomach was a lot stronger than when I thought of Finn, my mind more frazzled, my thoughts more immovable.

I closed my eyes. I needed my beauty sleep—Kurt would be doing that this instant—and I had to use the most effective method.

I counted gold stars as they shot across a dark night sky.

I swore I could feel an arm wrapped around me, smelling distinctly of hair products and that flowery Kurt smell.

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**Please review! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and I would love what people think of this! Also, what would the shipping name be?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I want to thank my reviewers, ****tiarashine**** and ****Drakelle-Leathley****. You guys rock! **

**I decided to try Kurt's point of view this time. There actually is some action in this chapter!**

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Chapter Two

I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked quite spiffy, I'll say, with my new Alexander McQueen I had bought on sale—I loved a good sale—and it was awesome. I really wanted to impress all the girls with this new addition to my wardrobe.

I wanted to impress one girl.

To impress this one girl in a different way.

This one girl?

Rachel.

Yes, Rachel Berry.

She was crazy, I'll freely admit, but that made her so lovable. Her crazy was just ambition, which God knows I have so much of.

I wanted to get out of the dang town of losers and crazies. I wanted to become the next Anthony Luciano—the best handbag designer ever, in my opinion. And if Rachel was on Broadway, I would make purses for her.

That was assuming she liked me back. Which she most definitely didn't. I saw her making puppy dog eyes at Finn most every day. Why didn't the two just hook up?

I had once been standing within earshot of hearing her turn him down.

"I'm sorry," she had said, dark brown eyes looking as if they were straining to stay trained on Finn. "I like someone else. Someone with a much more stylish fashion sense and who actually is smart."

Finn hadn't noticed the blow to his intelligence. "You're dating Jesse again, aren't you?" he demanded.

Rachel looked like she was stifling laughter. "That idiot? He's even dumber than you! He just hid it behind his superb singing expertise."

I really, really like Rachel. She was almost the total opposite of me.

She had no fashion sense.

I had perfect fashion sense.

She was straight.

I was gay.

She was acknowledged for her excellent singing.

I wasn't.

So many more.

I glanced at clock—seven twenty-three. I had to get to school. Grabbing my bag, I raced out the door and to my car.

***

School was normal. None of my classes were with Rachel, and all the teachers droned on about stuff I already knew.

I stared at the clock.

Twenty minutes until school was over, and Glee rehearsal was twenty-five minutes away.

The teacher sat down at her desk. "Free time!" she called. "I can't teach with this killer migraine."

I sighed in relief—no notes to take, no pop quizzes to worry about popping up.

Twelve minutes until Glee.

I started to put my books in my bag, paying close care to which book and note book went. There was a piece of paper—a note—out of place.

Glancing around, making sure no one could look at it, I opened the note.

It was a picture of me and Rachel, her arm slung over my shoulder. It was one of her better fashion moments—she wasn't wearing one of those terrible argyle cardigans and knee socks. This was taken after we won Regionals last year.

The thing that was different about this picture was that my face was circled in hearts, and, in a larger heart, was K+R. Who could "R" be? R…Rachel. Rachel was the only one who might do this, and the only one I'd want to.

How did the picture get in my bag? No one got near my bag as I always had it on hand. The time it might have happened was during class, when I slung the bag over my chair and I couldn't see it, so Rachel couldn't have done it. She never was in any of my classes, and she always sat front row, smack dab in the middle.

"What's that?" David Karofsky sneered, grabbing the paper out of my hand. "Looks like you got yourself an admirer." His eyes widened. "And the infamous Rachel Berry, too! So you two are an item, then?"

I could feel my face blush pink. "No, I-I just found this in my bag. Why would Rachel and I be dating?"

Karofsky grinned almost evilly. "Maybe 'cause she loves you! Wait 'til I spread the news."

No, no, no, no, no! What would Rachel think? I could feel the blood draining from my face, leaving it pale and ghostly. Should I just say we were dating? It would be easier, and I would tell Rachel immediately—Glee was in six minutes.

"I lied to you," I said, crossing my arms, hoping he couldn't hear my racing heart. "Rachel and I are dating. But we're keeping it secret, so if you tell anyone, I'll get all my football friends to beat your butt to Pluto and back several times."

Karofsky look confused. "What's Pluto? Sounds like a cool car."

"It's the furthest planet out there," I explained in a slow voice, as if he were two years old. "It's technically not a planet, but it deserves to be one."

The bell rang, saving me from any more conversation with him. I was the first one out the classroom, walking speedily to the choir room, dodging slushies.

Rachel was in the room already—she was always the first—and no one else was there.

"Rachel!" I said, walking quickly up to her. "Listen, I'm really sorry, but Karofsky was really bothering me, and there was this picture of you and me, and I had to tell him we were dating. I'm real sorry. Do you mind?"

She looked real happy, grinning from one ear to another. "Karofsky thinks we're dating? The whole school will know soon. I can't wait to see what everyone will think."

I had to smile too. "Do you mind?" I repeated.

She shrugged. "Not at all, but are we going to tell our fellow Glee clubbers? And what did you say about a picture?"

I paused, turning my slightly to the side. "The Cheerios will for sure tell, and it's hard to keep secrets from them. And the picture, it was the one of us after winning Regionals last year, the one with you with your arm around my shoulders."

Rachel interrupted, "Yeah, that one's my favorite."

I nodded absently. "And this picture, it had small hearts doodled around my face"—

Rachel blushed.

—"and in a larger heart it said K plus R."

She blushed even deeper. "Yeah, about that—"

She was cut off by the rest of the Glee club members entering the room, Mr. Schue included.

Finn looked like he was ready to kill, and Mercedes looked at me like I was crazy.

"What's this I hear that you two are dating?" Mercedes said, one hand on her hip. "I thought you were gay, Kurt, and that you, Rachel, were dating Finn."

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**Please review? Tell me what you love, hate, or whatever you want!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So to day I had lots and lots of free time. So I wrote another chapter. It may be sloppy, because I want to post this before I go to bed. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, Kurt and Rachel would be a couple, and Kurt would be a real gay instead of the televisionized version he is.  
**

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I stared in shock at Mercedes. Kurt had told me he'd told Karofsky that we were dating, but I never expected that he had told the lowest people on the food chain. Gossip usually took a few days to reach us, not just a few hours or minutes or however long it had been since Kurt had told Karofsky that we were dating.

Kurt looked panicky, as if he too hadn't expected the news to travel so fast. "Erm…" he said, pausing. "Yeah, um, we are dating, but we tried to keep it secret because…because of what you said about me being gay and her dating Finn. But I thought they weren't dating. She would be in my face about it if they were."

"And I am not dating Finn," I added, glaring at the tall boy. "I was last year, for, like, not even a month. And we're over, and have been for a long while."

Brittany ambled out from the back of the crowd. "Hey, Rach." She smiled, totally ignoring the serious situation.

I was shocked. Brittany looked as if we had never stopped being friends, as if she had never been mean to me. As if she never had betrayed my trust.

"I'm in love with my cat," she said. Of course. "I was thinking you could help me to get him to understand me."

She paused, probably waiting for my reply.

"Go on," I nodded, wondering where this conversation could go.

"Every time I tell him, he just curls up on my lap and falls asleep," said Brittany, completely serious.

I paused, thinking. This was thing I loved about Brittany; her ability to say something totally irrelevant to the conversation at hand, saving me many times from awkward situations and often embarrassing ones too.

"Is he purring when he's asleep?" I asked, an idea crossing my mind.

Brittany nodded. "Really loudly. Like, a, um," she paused, "Puck's truck. You know how raspy and loud it is?"

Puck glared at her from the back of the crowd.

"Well," I smiled, "I think he loves you back. Cats purr when they're happy, and if he's purring really loudly—like Puck's truck—after you tell him you're in love with him, then he must love you back."

"Thanks, Rach!" She hugged me tightly. "I'm really glad we're still friends." Had she forgotten we weren't friends anymore?

"Me too," I said, patting her back, really glad she helped get out of an awkward conversation with the rest of the Glee club.

But as soon as she pulled away, all the suspicious glares were back, along with a couple of amused ones from Mr. Schue and Santana.

"What, Mercedes?" I asked fake curiously, turning back to the topic at hand. "You're upset that I was able to get Kurt as a boyfriend when you couldn't last year?"

Mercedes glared at me, crossing the room to get in my face. Brittany stood beside me, gripping my hand tightly. I was glad for her presence; it reminded me of the times we shared as friends, facing imaginary danger.

Except this time the danger was real.

Mercedes was close enough for me to feel her breath, hot on my face.

"This seems real fishy. You're probably just trying to ruin the Glee club."

She paused, taking in Kurt walking closer to us to stand beside me.

"Again," she spat.

That really hit me hard.

And it made me mad.

"Listen, girl," I growled, my eyes narrowing, nostril flaring, my free hand on my hip, "I have never on purpose tried to destroy Glee club. I've done some bad things that might have been thought of as trying to destroy it, but I would never do anything to hurt this club on purpose. Glee club is the reason I'm not being home schooled. This year was supposed to be my first year, but I didn't because I love Glee club! I begged my dads, and they actually listened to my judgment on school, for once." I paused, taking a shaky breath. "I'm going to go now. I'll just skip Glee practice just for today."

I gently pried Brittany's hand from my own and left the room, grabbing my pink rolling backpack on the way.

As soon as I was out of the room, I raced for the girls' room. No one was in the halls—all the other extra-curricular activities were in the other part of the building. I leaned against the door as soon as I was in the smelly room, letting my tears slide down my face, leaving trails of mascara on my cheeks. No one tried to open the door, and, after a few minutes, I left the door to stare at my reflection.

Mascara streaked down my face, my lip gloss was smeared, my hair mussed. I looked terrible, and Kurt would not hesitate to say so if he was here.

Kurt.

We were…dating.

Sort of.

Everyone else thought we were.

I loved Kurt.

He didn't love me the way I loved him.

The bathroom door opened slowly, and hastily I wiped my face, smearing the trails of makeup, making me look worse. Kurt entered the room, his gaze softening as his eyes met mine.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "Mercedes can overreact a bit."

I laughed, albeit nervously. "Listen, about that picture you found…"

Kurt turned his head to the side, looking so adorable. "What about it?"

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "I drew that picture and stuck it in your bag during Glee yesterday."

"So you wrote on it?" he asked, something that I couldn't identify sparkling in his eyes.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks darken in a blush. "Kurt, I really, really like you."

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**So the secret's out! Cliffhanger! Please review!**


	4. Author's Note

**I'm sorry to say this, but I'm discontinuing all my stories. I've got no inspiration at all. If anyone wants to adopt them, please PM or message me. I'd be willing to share what I have for my stories that isn't published, though not many do have that. I appreciate all of you who reviewed, put me on alert or your faves list. I've been writing a little bit on fictionpress . com, and if you want to read that my account is SylvieGray.**

**I love all of you on FFN, and have a wonderful life!  
**


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